Holy Matri-Moly!: Loose Threads

Kayley Gunner snags the wedding dress for Vicki Chase's fiancee, and the moment she sees that ivory fabric she wants to climb into it. She fights the urge for ten solid seconds, then caves like a cheap chair. Slips the thing on. Spins in the mirror. Imagines walking down the aisle... toward Vicki herself. The crush she's buried since college flares right back to life. She pictures Vicki lifting her veil, tasting her mouth, claiming every inch under the dress. Door opens. Vicki's home early. Kayley freezes, white satin, guilty grin, hard nipples obvious through the bodice. "I, uh—shit, I shouldn't have—" She yanks at the zipper. Stuck. Vicki steps in, tries to free her, and that's when Kayley blurts it. "I've been dreaming about you. You in this dress instead. Me on my knees under it." Too much honesty—Vicki jerks, fabric rips straight down the back, tits bounce free. Kayley panics. Admits the whole crush, the years of swallowing it so she wouldn't wreck their friendship. Vicki drops the ruined dress, eyes dark. "You should've told me, dumbass. We could've been fucking instead of playing bridesmaid and bride." She mentions cold feet, bad signs, late-night doubts about the wedding. They both blink, realize they suck at keeping secrets. Vicki shrugs. "So let's test it. One night. Skin on skin. If it feels right, we say fuck it to everything else." Kayley stares, heartbeat in her throat, then grins like she's been dared. "Fine. Let's see if your pussy makes more sense than that marriage certificate."